Chronicles V – Kempton Park

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After waiting for more than an hour I decided he was lost again so headed back for the phone. I was hoping the card I bought had one more call on it. It did. I told Mike I would start walking towards the Kempton Hotel, big main bloody road from Isando to Kempton Park, he should be able to find that at least. It was now very late at night and the area I was in was far more dangerous than any war zone I have been in. If you are not a South African, check the amount of murders per DAY in my country. In 2009 to 2010 we lost more than half the amount of people that the Americans did in the entire Viet Nam war, due to violent crime. And to make me even happier, it began to rain.

I walked and walked, saw a few banditos check me out, but had my street walk on. I had my razor sharp Puma Bowie and my AK47 bayonet, hidden but with in a mili-seconds reach. Mike did not show. By now I was getting hungry, lucky I had eaten a mango just before I started walking, a big juicy one from the garden in Mozambique. I walked through middle class suburbia, after I had walked out of Jet Park’s industrial area. All the yards had high fences and walls with electrical wires on top. No way could you get a drink of water from a garden tap. Shit, this kit was getting heavy.


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